A Sinless Betrayal by Cherie Benjamin (books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📖

woman. I'm the one to make her cum, and I'll be the only one. She lays against the pillows, her chest heaving with the breaths that she takes. "Gods above, Abigor…" she whispers.

I crawl up her body, my cock resting against her wet cleft. "Taste yourself on my tongue," I instruct her before dipping my head and kissing her lips, slipping my tongue into her mouth. She grasps at my ass, pulling me forward. I don't resist her touch. She rubs our genitals together, the friction becoming worse. I throw my head back and moan loudly. "Gods, I want to fuck you. You gonna let me?"

She bucks her hips against me again, grinding her wetness against my hard erection. "Please. Please, I'm going to let you."

I pull back to look at her. "Mmm. I like you begging."

0o0o0o0o

ELIZA'S POV

After our passionate round of lovemaking, I've dressed again and am sitting by the fire to warm myself up before going out into the open. I have my bread in my hand and a piece of chocolate in the other. My appetite lately has been rather unruly.

He looks at me from where he's sitting in his seat. I'm sprawled on the floor with bits of chocolate melting in my hand. "Want some?" I ask him. He shakes his head, leaning back in the chair. I take it as an invitation to eat the rest, and I hurriedly do before he decides to change my mind.

Abigor bursts out laughing at my slob behaviour, throwing his head back and shaking his head. My face heats up instantly and I grab the handkerchief, wiping at the corners of my mouth. "Don't you keep laughing at me like that," I mock-scold him. "

"Oh Eliza, you don't even know it, do you?"

I look back at him with interest, raising one eyebrow in confusion. "What don't I know, huh?"

"That you're pregnant."

It catches me off guard and his words seem to physically push me backwards. "I beg your pardon?" I ask. My heart begins to pound in my chest, blood rushing all the way up to my ears and turning my face a shade of pink. What is he talking about? How would he know if I was pregnant?

He points to my deerskin shirt expectantly and then points to the ground. "Take that off, Elizabella."

My eyes widen. Is he angry with me now? "But—"

"Just do as I say."

Heart pounding and mind racing, I draw the shirt up over my head, revealing my naked chest to him. He's fighting the urge to touch me, I can see it in his eyes when I look down at him. "I don't understand what this is for," I whisper over the crackle of the fireplace and the voice of the wind. "I am not with child."

He frowns and looks up at me. "When did you last bleed then?" he asks me. I furrow my brows and begin to think. I count the months before gaping at him. "It's been two months now, Tiger Claw. Did you really think that I fail to notice the changes in your body when I have seen every inch of it?"

My eyes widen and I clutch at my stomach, needing to sit down in the chair. The concern on his face is evident as mine begins to pale considerably. The horrible stories of men discarding their women because she was pregnant are certainly not rare in this kingdom. I'm worried, and as the words rush out, I can't really stop them. "I am so sorry. Please, my king, you must forgive me."

He looks at me like I've just uttered the words of the devil. "What are you mumbling? Do not apologize to me!" He moves closer towards me, kneeling on the floor near my chair. "I wanted you pregnant. It is why I did not pull out when my release came."

He places a hand on my breast and squeezes lightly. I hiss at him and bat his hand away pettily. "That hurts," I say weakly. He smirks to himself.

"Another sign. Breast tenderness is always a factor. Remember that I was with my sister throughout her pregnancy." Abigor tells me. I clutch my shirt to my chest and slide my hand over my belly.

"Well…why? Why did you choose to impregnate me?" I am curious to ask, looking up at him with my eyes sparkling with wonder.

This question would have made any man squirm nervously in his seat, but not Abigor. He looks me dead on with an expression that shows he's not ashamed of what he did—he's proud of himself. "Because I wanted you to have my children. Plain and simple."

Me. He wanted me to have his children so he purposefully didn't pull out. One one hand I'm relieved that he planned it, but on the other hand, this makes me kind of angry. "So I am stuck with your illegitimate child all my life? This child shall be looked down upon just because of my title. What if I wanted to get married someday after your escapades with me were finished? You will marry another woman, make her your queen, and you will leave me behind so that I may taste your dust as you pedal down the road with her!"

His face reddens at my words; he seems rather upset about my theories. "You will never marry, Elizabella." Abigor's voice is firm and authoritative and I can't help it—I begin to cry, the tears streaming down my cheeks.

"So that's it?" I cry. I'm blinded by my anger and can't really control what comes out of my mouth—or what I say to the king. "You wish to keep me as your mistress for the rest of my lowly life?" My bad habit comes around again. I'd been so good about not scratching myself because I hadn't been unhappy or stressed in a very long time, but alas, my nails find my skin and draw blood.

His eyes widen and he wrestles my arms to my side, growling when my blood drips onto his hands. "You didn't let me finish!" he roars at me. I instantly quiet down. "You will never marry, Elizabella…you will never marry anyone but me. And that child in your stomach will be my heir!"

The pain from scratching my skin comes as blood rolls down my arms, but I don't acknowledge it. He is clutching my hands, kneeling at my sides, submitting to me. Yes…me. I remember what Cassandra said on my first day in Stauckana.

"If a warrior wants to marry a harem girl, she cannot refuse."

But this was him demanding my hand, my heart, and my body. This was him securing my hopes and dreams of creating a family with a loving husband and naked little boys and sweet girls—but it is just a little different from how I'd originally dreamt it. And he waits for my answer on pins and needles, hoping for the best.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Is this some kind of sick joke? Because if it is, then I shall never forgive you for it."

He lets out a relieved huff of laughter, leaning back on his haunches. "It is no joke. You are my love. I already told you that I cannot live without you. I have already claimed you, mate claimed you…and now I have my son in your stomach." He tugs away the shirt and slithers his unnaturally hot hand over my belly. The warmth is soothing. "I shall marry you, and make you my queen."

I stare at him, unable to comprehend his actions. Abigor wraps his free hand around my neck and pulls my head towards his, lips colliding with mine. Our lips move in sync together with a passion that could move mountains, the little fantasy lingering there until he pulls away and kisses down my neck, through the valley of my breasts and all the way down until he reaches my navel.

I bite my lip and fight the urge to moan when his tongue dips into my belly button, swirling around the little indentation before planting a kiss directly beside it. I gasp when his arms suddenly rise up from their place on my knees and wrap around my waist. He holds me tightly, his head against my stomach. He listens to the sound of my breathing as I gently stroke his hair.

"I shall announce it tonight. You shall become my wife before the end of the week." His voice vibrates against me. "We shall have a grand wedding, and then the whole world will know you are mine."

0o0o0o0o

The word of Dances With Wolves' betrothal to me has spread like wildfire all over the kingdom. Men and women have been coming up to me and they kiss my hand as if I were already a royal. The treatment has been larger than life for me. Abigor has ordered that my chair is situated next to his at the end of the table. When the servants said that the previous queen's dining throne had been ruined with the ages, he'd ordered a newer, more splendid one to be built in his soon-to-be-new wife's honour.

At breakfast, Iron Coyote has ordered the harem girls to come down and entertain the men at the table. Abigor didn't object, but I figured it wouldn't bother me as long as none of them danced provocatively for him. I sit at the edge of the table, watching Cassandra, Athenodora, Arlena and Katalina twirl around the room in their fancy silks. Ivona sits on Iron Coyote's lap, feeding him grapes right from the vine.

He wears a golden collar that covers a good part of his neck. I narrow my eyes at it. "What is that thing that he wears around his neck?" I ask Abigor, leaning towards him. In return, he snorts and shakes his head.

"An injury," Abigor says to me. "Supposedly it's badly bruised, but he's too ashamed to show anyone but his whore. Ivona was the one that told me." I look back at Iron Coyote with my eyes widened. Bruised?

"Was it…" I lick my lips. "Fist-sized?"

He nods his head. "Think so. Why?"

My face turns unbearably red and I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing. "No reason at all."

The moment that my bowl of soup is placed in front of me, I grab my spoon and dig in. The savoury taste of the rabbit is almost more than my taste buds can handle. "I haven't said anything about the pregnancy yet," Abigor whispers to me. "I don't want to announce the news just yet."

I shrug my shoulders. "Well, alright. I won't say anything if you don't. Just tell me when, okay?"

He nods and picks up his wooden spoon and dips it into his stew. The musicians in the background start playing on their drums and flutes and stringed instruments, creating a lovely piece of music to listen to while chatting and eating at the dinner table.

Drinks of Waterfall has also publicly announced his marriage to Michelle as well, successfully earning her a ticket out of the harem and into his headquarters as a warrior's wife. Their child would come soon, and that child would be well looked after due to his mother and father's titles.

The warmth inside the huge room circulates as the men light yet another fire to keep the cold of the oncoming winter out. Some of my tight fitted clothes prove to be no longer wearable now that I am eating much more to feed the child growing inside of my belly. Abigor has ordered new clothes to be made for me from the seamstresses.

Everyone has noticed the grand ring that I have on my finger. It was his mother's, a beautiful yellow-orange topaz stone sitting atop a shining golden band. The ring matches my symbolic necklace. As I chew a carrot from the soup, I look over at my soon-to-be husband.

He chews on the rabbit, his powerful jaw muscles crushing the meat between his strong, white teeth. His silky black braid hands down his back, a few